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What Happens Ashore (Stays Ashore)

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“He’s a large man.”

Flint flicks his eyes impatiently in the direction where Vane’s nodding. It’s the young blonde sailor new to his crew, Flint remembers him. Billy. He makes a point of not remembering for the most part. It suits him to have the men think he’s indifferent unless he needs them to care.

“What of it?” He doesn’t see the point in Vane’s remark; for that matter he doesn’t understand why Vane is even speaking to him. They don’t speak for the most part unless they have to, and for the most part they don’t have to. In Flint’s opinion they can drink in peace  and solitude for that matter, but Vane has decided to sit with him, and more than that, talk and so here they are.

Vane merely shrugs his shoulders. He’s no small man himself, Flint admits grudgingly, though he’s not as tall as Billy. Few men are tall as Billy.

“I was merely thinking…” Vane pauses, bringing the bottle to his lips, causing Flint to have to look over at him while he does so.

“Well?” Flint says impatiently when Vane’s mouth has lingered far too long over the mouth of the bottle instead of finishing his sentence.

“Have you had him yet?”

That casual remark causes Flint to look at him sharply.

“Well?” Vane asks lazily. “Have you?”

“No.” Flint manages at last because he hasn’t. It’s not as though he hasn’t thought about it. He’s not a saint.

Vane takes another drink. “What do you say?”

For a moment Flint thinks he’s going to ask if he can have Billy and his hackles raise at the very idea of handing Billy over to this man. Billy’s a member of his crew, for starters. But more than that, he’s not simply something to be just handed over for the pleasure of another. He wonders how much trouble it will cause when he refuses Vane’s offer, cracking his knuckles at the thought.

But before he can stand up and defend Billy’s honor, Vane simply adds, “Surely between the two of us, we could handle him.”

At that addition Flint blinks. He takes another moment and rearranges all the information currently in his mind. Vane is proposing to have Billy, but he’s suggesting they share him. And that…that is not an unappealing prospect. Flint takes a sip of his own rum.

He looks again at Billy, and this time Billy is looking back at him. He looks away quickly enough, the tips of his ears reddening. He’s so fair, though tanned from the sun, it’s noticeable and Flint finds his lips twitching upwards in a quick smile.

He looks sidewise to see Vane leaning back in his chair and smirking at him. “Well, well, looks like he’d be over here in a moment if you snapped your fingers for him.”

“Nonsense.” Flint’s not sure he wants to learn if that’s true or not.

“Let’s see, shall we?” Vane’s tone is still lazy. “You there!”

Flint looks up in alarm to see him raising a hand to gesture at Billy.

“Come here.”

They both watch as Billy slowly rises and makes his way over to them. “Capn’s.” He gives them both a nod, and waits curiously.

“Captain Flint wishes to ask you something.” Vane says.

Billy looks to Flint expectantly and Flint grinds his teeth. He doesn’t want to get into this with Billy, he doesn’t want to get into it with Vane. He doesn’t want to get into it with any of them. There’s nothing to get into here. But Billy’s still looking at him, and there’s something about the way he’s looking at Flint that makes Flint consider what Vane’s told him, that Billy’s looking to him for attention, that Billy might even welcome it.

“I…” He fumbles with his words, he who is usually always so ready with his words. “Wondered if.”

“If you would join us in Flint’s quarters for a drink.” Vane injects smoothly.

Flint’s grateful for the rescue there, and yet irritated by it at the same time. He looks at Billy, not sure he wants to know what the answer is.

“Oh.” Billy looks flustered for a moment, and then nods. “Of course. It would be an honor.”

“That’s the spirit.” Vane rises, clapping him on the back as he heads for the door.

Billy looks a little askance at the gesture, but not unhappy with it, and Flint thinks about that too as he leads the way to a room he’s taken down the street a ways. He wishes they were on the Walrus for half a second. It would be a good location for whatever’s about to happen here. He’s got a good feel of matters in his own cabin. Here, it’s all open to chance.

He opens the door to his room and leaves it open, Vane following him, and Billy entering last and politely closing the door behind him.

Flint lights a lamp. It’s afternoon, but it’s still fairly dim in his room. There’s only a small window, looking out high above the rooftops towards the sea. He can see the Walrus from here, anchored peacefully. He shakes out the match, wishing he were on his ship right now.

He turns around to face the other two.

Vane raises his eyebrows at him meaningfully. “That drink, captain?” He’s calling Flint captain as a sop to his position. Vane knows he can’t get Billy without Flint, and clearly he wants Billy.

If he’s honest, and in this moment Flint forces himself to be honest, he wants Billy as well. There’s something undeniably appealing about the tall young man, and Flint’s forced himself to overlook it most of the time. It’s easier that way. He doesn’t need to be attached to his crew. Gates is the only one he counts a friend, and even he’s expendable, if needs must.

But if he’s honest, Billy is more than attractive and Flint admires him.

He has two cups and he pours rum into the both of them, and then considers which of them gets the bottle.

“I’ll take it.” Vane reaches for it.

At the same time Billy speaks up. “It should be me.”

Vane grins at him. “Or do you just want more rum?”

Billy flushes and Vane chuckles.

Flint hands the bottle to Vane, and looks at Billy. “The gesture’s appreciated.”

Billy gives an awkward nod, and accepts the cup Flint hands him. He takes a deep gulp, looking around the room. He wants to know why he’s here, and Flint wonders if he’ll run once he knows.

He clears his throat. “To our endeavors.”

Vane almost chokes at that, but raises his cup in answer. “Our endeavors.”

“Our endeavors.” Billy echoes, confused but willing enough.

Enough. Flint’s tired of this game. It’s one thing if Billy’s interested, but if he’s not, then there’s no point in wasting any of their time here.

“Captain Vane,” He can be polite too, he tells Gates in his head, “wants to know if you have any interest in joining us.” He pauses and then words fail him again.

“Joining you.” Billy repeats carefully.

“In bed.” Vane says plainly enough.

Billy stares at him incredulously. “I’m sorry.”

“For a fuck.” Vane elucidates helpfully.

Billy tips his cup all the way back, downing his rum in one gulp. He stands there a moment, not looking at either of them. Flint sends Vane a swift look and Vane shakes his head minutely. The message is clear. Let him think about it. So Flint makes himself wait, sweating, angry at how much he’s waiting to hear Billy’s response.

“I don’t…” Billy starts, and then clears his throat. “I’m not sure I…” He stops, and Vane lifts the bottle questioningly. Billy nods and Vane pours him more rum.

Billy takes another sip and then speaks, still not looking at either of them. “I’m not sure why you, either of you, captains would be interested in that. With me.”

Flint wants to laugh at the absurdity of it and then it strikes him that Billy’s serious. He means what he’s saying. He doesn’t understand why they would be interested. Flint’s floored by this revelation. He looks at Vane almost helplessly.

Again Vane saves him, and this time Flint lets himself be grateful, instead of annoyed.

Vane steps forward. He reaches for Billy’s cup and sets it aside along with the bottle. And then he tilts his head back, looking up Billy, putting a hand on Billy’s hip. “Let us show you then.”

At that Billy looks at him, considering it, and then he looks at Flint, really looks at him. Flint’s mouth goes dry. Billy’s eyes are bright blue and he’s never let himself really look at them before. Not like this.

“Captain.” Billy says and Flint snaps back into focus. He takes a final sip of his own rum and lets it join the others on the table before turning to them.

“It’s true.” he says softly, because that’s the question Billy is asking now. Is this real? Can he trust it? Can they possibly mean it? He wants to reassure Billy. He wants him to know how much he is wanted here.

So he moves in close, standing shoulder to shoulder with Vane and reaches upwards, curving his hand around Billy’s neck, drawing his face down. Billy leans obediently, and their mouths meet, a thrill of heat curling through Flint as it happens. Billy’s lips are a little dry, but they part almost immediately, and his tongue responds to Flint eagerly, and with that touch, Flint knows Billy wants this too. He’s not the only one who’s been looking.

A little heady with the rush of it, Flint draws back. He looks up at Billy and smiles.

Vane nods towards the bed. Flint looks at it, and Billy follows his gaze, still flushing a little.

Vane grabs the bottle and strolls towards the bed. “Come on then.”

The bed’s really not going to be big enough for them, Flint’s already thought about that. But it will have to do.

He nods at Billy. “Sit down.”

Billy sits and Flint steps back to look at him. Vane takes a swig from the bottle and sets it down again. He glances slyly at Flint. There’s a challenge in his eye and Flint doesn’t shy away from it. He reaches for his coat, removing it with a flourish and tossing it over a chair.

Vane responds by pulling off his shirt. His chest is finely muscled, well-developed muscle. He’s brawn through and through. His hips are taut and lean, and Flint imagines placing his hands on them, holding Vane close.

He reaches for his boot and Billy says, “Let me.”

Flint looks at him startled, and then slowly lifts his boot, placing it in Billy’s firm grasp, Billy tugging it off. Flint half loses his balance and Billy chuckles a little.

“Lean on me.” He instructs and Flint places a hand on his shoulder for the second one, gripping Billy as the boot’s removed. Billy glances upward at him and Flint’s arrested again by the color of his eyes. How is he just now seeing them so clearly?

Vane coughs, breaking the silence and when they look up Flint sees that he’s discarded the rest of his clothes, standing naked before them. His legs and thighs are well-muscled too and Billy suppresses a half-drawn sigh. The sound sends a faint pang of jealousy through Flint and then he looks down.

Billy’s hand is on his hip. Except, Billy’s hand is so large, his fingertips are practically grasping Flint’s backside and Billy’s not even aware he’s doing it.

Vane’s smirking at the both of them as he takes his cock in hand. Billy’s gaze follows the motion hungrily, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips.

“What’re you waiting for?” Vane asks lazily.

Flint glances at Billy and this time Billy looks upward.  His hand flexes upon Flint’s body and for the first time Billy seems aware of where it is. For a moment Flint thinks he’s going to take it away, and he half leans into Billy’s touch, encouraging him to leave it there, to move it further.

“Which one of us do you wanna fuck?” Vane’s voice drifts through the silence again. “Before we fuck you?”

Billy’s hand curves around Flint’s hipbone, his fingertips pressing into Flint’s ass with delicious purpose.

He looks up at Flint again, as though to ask ‘is this all right?’ and Flint answers him by leaning down, clasping Billy’s jaw in his hands as he kisses him again.

Vane settles into the chair with the corner, one leg thrown over the arm, the bottle tilted to his mouth as he watches, his cock still vividly interested in the proceedings.

Flint settles on the bed. They’re still kissing as he pulls at Billy’s shirt, and he can feel the thick swollen heat of Billy’s cock pressing insistently through his breeches. It’s as large as the rest of him when he reaches for it and Billy groans low in his throat from the feel of his hand.

It makes Flint desperate to get his mouth on him. He needs to taste Billy, wants to feel the length of him in his throat. He draws him out with greedy hands and then stops, just looking at him.

Billy looks slightly embarrassed to have himself looked at like this so Flint has to kiss him again. It’s messy, his tongue demanding more and from Billy and Billy responds just as before, answering his hunger, his hands grip Flint’s back, his cock pressing hard into Flint’s belly.

Flint breaks off with a gasp, sliding to his knees between Billy’s thighs. He places a hand on each thigh, but that won’t do. He needs at least one hand on Billy’s cock as he sucks it.

Oh god, the first taste of Billy makes the blood rush to Flint’s cock. He lowers his head further, lifting the length of him as he slides Billy deeper down his throat. Everything about him is so satisfying. The weight of his cock is pure heaven and Flint moans around it. There’s no way he can fit Billy entirely, but there’s a pleasure in trying, taking as much of him as possible.


 *  *  *


“I want to fuck you.” Billy whispers at last, and for that Flint will stop sucking his cock.

He lies back on the bed and there’s something, the briefest something in Billy’s eye. “What?”

“Nothing,” Billy shakes his head.

“How do you want me?” Flint asks softly.

The flush rises in Billy’s ears but he meets Flint’s gaze. “All fours, in front of me.”

Fuck, Flint’s cock swells more at his words. Mutely, he rolls over, positioning himself on his hands and knees. His stomach tightens in anticipation. He looks over his shoulder at Vane who’s still drinking, still fisting his cock but slowly. He’s not going to finish anytime soon. His eyes meet Flint’s and there’s a glimmer of satisfaction in Vane’s expression.

For the briefest moment Flint lets himself wonder if this as a trap of sorts. Did Vane arrange all of this, just to catch him like this? To see him fucked by one of his own crew? When he thinks about it like, it sounds like something Vane would set up.

But there’s no faking the enjoyment in Vane’s body now, there’s pretense to the pleasure in his eyes as he watches them. For whatever reason Vane is here, it’s real enough.

Flint takes a deep breath, letting his head hang slightly as he waits.


 *  *  *


“There’s oil, somewhere.” Flint says gruffly. He has to think for a minute but Billy’s ahead of him and has already found it and returned to the bed.

Billy settles behind him, one hand on Flint’s flank. With his other, he sticks his fingers in the oil, slipping them cautiously between Flint’s cheeks.

It takes all of Flint’s willpower to keep from just pressing back against his fingers like a whore. Fuck, it’s been too long. He doesn’t want to think about that, the years, or the reason, so he lets it recede back into the gray shadows of his mind. 

All the same he can’t keep from uttering the smallest noise when Billy presses a finger inside.

“You can go harder than that.” Vane says out of nowhere.

When Billy looks at him questioningly he merely shrugs. “He likes it rough.”

A fierce heat burns in Flint’s cheeks and neck as he feels Billy looking at him with this information. How the fuck does Vane dare? More importantly, how the fuck does he know that truth about Flint?

Vane meets his gaze challengingly. “Tell him I’m wrong.”

Flint doesn’t back down from a challenge. He’s not above lying to suit his purposes, but he’s not going to fucking lie for this, not when Vane happens to be right, somehow. Not when it’ll suit his purposes to tell the truth.

“He’s not wrong.” Flint mutters. He gives Billy a brief glance over his shoulder, his ears still red, “I like it rough.”

He’s not sure he’s ever said that aloud before, and the realization of admitting it, in front of Vane, no less, makes his blood run cold for a moment.

Then Billy presses deeper into him and he doesn’t give a flying fuck what he just admitted. He wants more. This time he pushes back, clearly begging.

Billy’s not outwardly rough, not at first, but the freedom to be so gives his gestures more confidence. He stretches Flint capably enough, never filling him completely, though he easily could with his fingers alone. He never gives Flint enough to satisfy, and Flint’s hard with anticipation by the time Billy’s done.

Billy’s hands fasten on his hips, readying himself as the head of his cock presses to Flint’s slicked hole. Flint licks his lips, gripping the sheets under him. He doesn’t dare look at Vane, not right now.

The first thrust of Billy inside makes Flint moan, embarrassing and loud and true. He lets his head drop further as Billy slides deeper. The thickness of his cock makes Flint’s whole body thrum in contentment, even though he’s restless with blatant need.

Billy’s hands are bruisingly tight as he rolls his hips, sinking still deeper into Flint. How is there still more of his cock, Flint wonders.

Flint’s sweating, his own cock starving for it, but he’s going to fucking come from Billy’s cock inside him. He knows that already, and he has the feeling Vane, damn him, knows it too.

For once Vane isn’t watching him. He’s taking a sip of the bottle and then he looks up, catching Flint’s eye. A smile slips across his lips, the closest Flint’s ever come to calling a real smile.

Billy leans down and licks a stripe along Flint’s back. Flint moans helplessly at the feel of his tongue. He rocks back on Billy’s cock, silently pleading for more.

Billy leans down, his body pressing against Flint’s, practically covering him. “You want more?”

“Yes.” Flint breathes.

“How?” Billy whispers.

Flint swallows down the urge to protest, to protect himself, “Harder.”

Billy presses his lips to Flint’s shoulder, a soft kiss there on his burning skin. “As you like, captain.”

He straightens back, gripping Flint’s hips with renewed purpose. Then he sets about at a relentless pace that makes Flint gasp with pleasure, his body rocking forward as Billy fucks him. It’s like being fucked like a cannon, Flint thinks helplessly, and then he’s gone too far for thought.

He knows at one point that he nearly comes, sinking down on his forearms, groaning for it. Billy halts his pace, pulling nearly all the way out, which makes Flint want to beg even more.

“Up.” Billy commands, giving him a slap smartly across the backside, and Flint obeys, bracing himself with his palms.

Billy nods to himself in satisfaction. If he looks at Vane, Vane surely gives him a look of appreciation. Flint’s not even sure if that happens. He just knows Billy pushes all the way inside him until his balls rest close behind Flint. Flint, impaled and filled and so close to coming, he doesn’t know how he can last any longer.

Billy slides his hands up and down his back for a moment, half stroking, half reassuring. Then he moves his hands to cup Flint’s cheeks, parting them wide as he thrusts in and out of him.

“That’s a fucking hell of a sight.” Vane murmurs.

Flint’s knees tremble, at the sight he’s making for them, at the steady, seemingly endless thrust of Billy’s cock, claiming him again and again, stroke after stroke. Billy’s broad hands holding him wide open like he’s nothing more than an offering for Billy to take and fuck.

“Do you want to come?” Billy asks and Flint nearly chokes on his laughter.

“Do I want to come?”

“Then ask for it.” Billy tells him, and Flint’s knees nearly buckle again at the tone of it, the way his words fill the room with possession.

“Please.” Flint’s voice is a mere rasp. “Please, make me come.”

Billy smiles above him, tracing his thumbs along the thick of him sticking out of Flint, making Flint shiver at the feel of those rough thumbs on his sensitized flesh. Billy nudges his hips upward, and then he just slides his hands to Flint’s thighs, spreading him so wide Flint nearly screams with it. There’s not a single part of him not aware that he’s being fucked by Billy. His whole body submits it, clenching hotly around Billy, claiming him as much as Billy’s claimed him.

Billy shudders then, coming so deep inside Flint he feels he’s going to be full of it for days after. His own release shoots across his belly, in thick waves.

When Billy finally pulls out of him, Flint wants to moan again. It’s too good, it’s unfair that it was Billy who made him feel this good, and that it was Vane who helped orchestrate it. His body feels bereft, empty. He lays on his side panting, not wanting to face either of them yet.


*  *  *


“My turn.” Vane rises to his feet like a lion who’s been stalking his prey, lying in wait for the right moment.

Billy’s still catching his breath when Vane straddles him, leaning down to kiss his mouth.

Flint turns over on his back to watch them. It’s a relief, Vane’s paying him no attention at all, so he has a moment to gather his thoughts as Vane makes his move.

Billy’s hands move over Vane’s body hungrily. Has his cock already recovered? Flint glances between his legs, but no, not quite. Not even a man of Billy’s girth and stature has that quick of a recovery time. Selfishly Flint’s a little pleased by this.

Vane sticks his fingertips in the oil and starts stroking Billy’s hole.

“That was a good show you put on.” He says conversationally. He spreads Billy’s legs, slinging them over his shoulders. “I enjoyed it.”

“But,” Flint prompts humorlessly.

“But,” Vane grins at him as he readies his cock. “Now you’ll see how a captain fucks.”

The first thrust inside makes Billy grunt. A low, pleasurably surprised sound and for the first time Flint thinks about what it would be like to be fucked by Vane. He watches Vane’s cock as it slides smoothly between Billy’s thighs, the way Vane has Billy positioned, completely in control.

“Grip the headboard.” Vane orders and Billy lifts his hands.  His chest is a broad expanse and Flint reaches out a hand before he knows what he’s doing, spreading it over Billy’s torso. Billy sucks in a breath at his touch. Encouraged Flint lets his hand roam further, brushing and teasing his nipples.


“Mm.” Flint’s mesmerized by the sight of Billy like this.

“Fuck his mouth.”


Vane gives an impatient jerk of his head. “Do something useful with that pretty cock of yours and fuck his mouth?”

Flint looks at Billy, and Billy quickly nods.

Flint swings his leg over Billy’s chest, settling on his chest, lowering his cock so Billy can take it.

“You sure?” He murmurs.

Billy just nods so Flint slips it between his lips. He’s not going to come again anytime soon, but the feel of Billy on him is more than enjoyable. Billy moans around his cock and Flint lets him have a little more.

“More.” Vane urges as he thrusts harder and Flint mutters a curse as he rises to this challenge as too, truly fucking Billy’s mouth with his cock now.

There’s a hand slipping between his cheeks and Flint almost stiffens, but the finger sliding inside him knows what it’s doing, knows what he wants and he shouts hoarsely as Vane manages to find that damned spot.

His cock, already half hard from Billy, swells further and Billy groans as he does indeed come a second time, half of it spilling on Vane, half of it on Flint.

Vane gives a final curl of his finger before it slips out of Flint and Flint half collapses atop Billy’s chest, panting, furious, and worse still hard.

Vane finishes in Billy with a rumble of a groan. He lowers Billy’s legs and flops on the bed beside him.

“Now,” Vane’s voice is lazy in its contentment as he turns his head and looks at Flint. “You can be angry at me, and walk off in a huff. Or you can stay and see which of us wins the coin toss to finish sucking you off.”

His hand is on Flint’s thigh. Well, one of them is. the other is in Billy’s hair, stroking it.

Flint takes a deep breath and straightens up. He gazes down at Billy who looks back at him hopefully. It’s clear Billy at least wants him to stay.

He looks at Vane and considers the matter.

“Which of you has a coin?”

Vane’s smile widens.


 *   *   *


Later when they’ve parted ways, Vane departing for his own ship with no more than “See you around town,” he and Billy head back for the ship.

Now that it’s done Flint doesn’t know what to say. Surely Billy knows not to say anything, but still Flint has to tell him that. He can’t take the chance Billy will speak of this to anyone.

He stops abruptly before they get to the longboat. “Look, Billy.”

“I dreamed of that, you know.” Billy’s words are muttered, quiet, but matter-of-fact all the same.

Flint gives him a quick look, half prepared for Billy to mock him with that, his dream of fucking the captain. But Billy’s eyes meet his, true and honest.

“I know it doesn’t mean anything, that whatever happens ashore, stays ashore, but.” Billy clears his throat. “I just wanted you to know that it meant something to me, captain.”

He turns to head for the boat and Flint places a hand on his arm, halting him.


Billy looks back at him, that hopeful look still in his eyes.

“It…matters to me too.” Is all Flint can manage. But the surprised look, the startled pleasure that spreads over Billy’s face tells him it’s enough.

“Now, let’s get back to the Walrus.” He says brusquely.

“Aye, aye, captain.”

Billy’s whistling as they head over to the longboat, and Flint takes a private pleasure in the fact that those lips, forming so fair a tune in the evening’s dusk, had been the pair to entice him to coming a second time. For a moment he wishes all in Nassau town knew Billy’s talent, but decides in the end it’s best if they don’t. Some things are best left between captains.